


Ripples in Time

by ami_ven



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan is the Doctor’s granddaughter— and River is her grandmother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ripples in Time

One beautiful July morning, there was a knock at the door.

Amy answered it, still in her robe and slippers, and froze. “River?”

Her daughter smiled. She was wearing the same trench coat she had worn as ‘Melody Malone’, this time over a smart skirt and blouse— but neither could completely hide the slight swell of her middle. “Hello, Mum.”

“River!” said Amy, again. “Oh, my god, River!” She pulled the other woman into a hug. “How did you get here? No, I don’t care. Yes, I do, but you can tell me later because you’re here and I missed you so much and you’re— pregnant?”

She pulled away, sharply, and River nodded.

“And the father is…?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Mum.”

“Oh, my,” said Amy. Then, she released River and took a step back. “Come in, come in. Rory will make us tea. Rory!”

“Yes, what is it?” As he came around the corner, he stopped. “River?”

She waved. “Hello, Dad.”

Rory hurried to hug her, and immediately pulled back again. “You’re pregnant,” he said. “That’s wonderful! That is wonderful, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “Wonderful, but complicated.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Amy laughed. “Anthony, honey, come say hello.”

A little boy appeared behind Rory, hiding until Amy held out her hand and he took it. “Hello,” he said, shyly.

Amy ruffled his hair. “Anthony, this is River. Your big sister.”

“River!” he said, excitedly, shyness forgotten. “I’ve waited my _whole life_ to meet you.”

“You’re four,” said Amy, scooping him up. “And you’re only known about her for a year.”

“But that’s forever, Mom,” he protested, in his American accent. “Forever and ever.”

“It is when you’re four,” River agreed. “It’s nice to meet you, Anthony.”

Rory slid an around his daughter’s shoulders and steered them toward the kitchen. “Come and have a cuppa, River, and we’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

“Speaking of time,” said Amy, sitting across from her at the table, with Anthony in her lap. “How _did_ you get here? I thought this was a… a time travel dead zone?”

“New York City is, in this time,” River agreed. “So I arrived in Paris and took a boat here. But what about you two? Are you all right?”

“It wasn’t easy, being stuck here,” Rory admitted. He set a cup of tea in front of River, then took the chair beside his wife’s. “I was working up to a really good freak-out when Amy showed up.”

“He was,” Amy agreed. “But once he calmed down a bit, Rory was the real hero.”

“Oh,” River asked.

Rory flushed, faintly. “I wasn’t. It’s just that I’ve lived through this time before— when I was the plastic Roman— and I remembered enough to be useful.”

“Daddy’s a nurse,” put in Anthony. “He’s the best nurse ever!”

“Yes, he is,” River agreed. “But how did you… I mean, Mum, you weren’t supposed to be able to…”

She trailed off, one hand on her rounded middle almost guiltily, but Amy smiled. “We adopted Anthony a year ago,” she said. “There’s an orphanage next door to the hospital where Rory works, and when I’d walk up to bring Rory his lunch— shut up laughing, both of you, that’s what women _do_ here— every day, I could see the kids playing outside. Then, one day, I saw an older boy snatch a doll from a smaller girl, and this little guy,” she jiggled Anthony until he laughed, “went right up to the bully and demanded he give the doll back.”

“And did he?” River asked.

“Goodness, no,” said Amy. “Our brave little man ended up with a black eye. But I went right to the hospital and asked my husband if he could handle being a father again.”

“We skipped lunch and went back to the orphanage,” Rory continued, leaning over to ruffle Anthony’s hair. “He’s the best thing that’s happened to us in this time.”

“Mom and Dad are from the future,” Anthony said, happily. He paused. “River, are _you_ from the future?”

“I am, I suppose,” she said. “I’m really more of a time traveler.”

“ _Wow_ ,” said Anthony.

“Yes, it’s quite exciting,” River agreed. “But for the next few months, I was hoping for something a bit more constant.”

Across the kitchen table, her parents exchanged knowing looks. Amy slid Anthony off her lap and onto the floor. “Why don’t you go play in your room for a little while, kiddo.”

He glanced sideways at River. “Will Sister still be here?” he asked, warily.

“Yes,” said River. “I’ll be here.”

As soon as the sound of small feet had disappeared up the stairs, Amy leaned over to take her daughter’s hand. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

Again, River’s hand rested on her middle. “No,” she said, softly. “And he can’t know. It’s not part of his timeline.”

“But that’s his _child_ ,” said Rory, sounding pained. He loved Anthony with his whole heart, but he still felt the grief of missing Melody’s childhood. “He deserves to know them.”

“Of course he does,” River agreed. “But he can’t.”

“Why not?” asked Amy. “Time can be rewritten.”

“Not once it’s happened. The Doctor and I have always been traveling in opposite directions, Mum. He’s seen me die. He saw it before we’d met, when he wore a different face, and there’s nothing I can do to change that now.”

“Oh, River,” said Amy, squeezing her hand. “Can’t you ever tell him?”

River shook her head. “That’s why I came here. Apart from wanting to see you, of course.”

“You’re not staying, then,” said Rory, and it wasn’t a question. 

“No, Dad.”

“What?” said Amy. “But you’re… you’re going to leave her, him, _here_ , aren’t you?”

“Even if I could rewrite time, it’s safer for the baby here, don’t you see? This is the Doctor’s child, think of what his enemies might do to her. Think of what they did to _me_ , and I’m not even—”

They were both around the table in a heartbeat to pull her into a hug. “We won’t let them touch her,” Amy said, fiercely. “Not a hair.”

“I know,” said River, pulling back a little to smile at her parents. “If I can’t raise her myself, she should be with people who will love her.”

“Of course we love her,” said Rory. “She’s our grandchild.”

“And she’ll only be four years younger than our son,” said Amy. “If I hadn’t stopped worrying about all this time-travel business, that would probably give me a headache.”

*

The phone rang. “Blue Box Publishing, Amy Williams speaking.”

“ _Mom?_ ”

“Anthony?” Amy sat up at her desk, instantly worried. “Are you all right? Is Dad all right? Is River—?”

“ _She’s having the baby_ ,” Anthony interrupted. “ _Right now! It’s yucky._ ”

“I’m sure it is,” said Amy, packing up her paperwork and reaching for her coat. “I’m coming straight home. Look after your sister for me, and tell your dad I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“ _Okay. Bye, Mom._ ”

Amy usually walked the few blocks back to their townhouse, but today she took a taxi, tumbling out almost before it stopped. “River?” she called, dumping her coat and purse in the nearest chair. “Rory?”

“Upstairs, Mom!” yelled Anthony’s voice.

She left her shoes in the hall and pounded up the stairs in her stocking feet, skidding to a stop in the doorway to River’s room.

Her daughter was obviously in labor, propped up on pillows, feet braced on the bed and a blanket over her lap. Rory held her hand, expression shifting between ‘father’ and ‘nurse’.

“Mum,” River breathed, and Amy was beside her in a moment, taking her other hand.

“How are you doing?” Amy asked.

“I’ve been better,” said River.

“What, this? Really, River, you’ve regenerated. Twice. This can’t be nearly so bad.”

“Regeneration had _nothing_ on this,” her daughter panted. “It’s not even— Ah!”

She closed her eyes against another contraction and squeezed both her parents’ hands tightly.

“River,” Rory said, softly. “Are you absolutely sure you won’t go to the hospital? Even in this time, they’re—”

“You know why I can’t!” she snapped, then softened. “My baby has two hearts, Rory. Even in this time, a doctor could tell that.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing her hand. “But you’re my daughter, and I don’t like seeing you hurting.”

“She’ll be all right,” said Amy. “Women have been doing this since the beginning of time. And you would know, wouldn’t you?”

River laughed, through another contraction. “Yes, I would know that,” she said. “Why doesn’t anyone mention how much this hurts?”

“Because you forget,” said Amy, running her fingers through her daughter’s sweat-damp curls. “You start to worry that something’s gone wrong, that you’re going to die, that the baby’s going to die, and then it’s over. You hold your baby in your arms and the pain vanishes like it never was.”

“Oh, Amy,” River breathed, before another contraction hit.

“River, sweetheart,” said Rory. “I need you to let go of my hand.”

Reluctantly, she let go, and Rory moved to the foot of the bed. “You’re doing wonderfully, River,” he said. “Oh, oh, I see a head.”

“Push, River!” Amy encouraged.

A few minutes later, Rory settled a cleaned and blanket-wrapped bundle in River’s arms. 

“A girl,” she said, a little dazedly, as the baby blinked up at her.

“Does she have a name?” Amy asked.

“Jane,” said River. “Jane Amelia Williams.”

“Williams?” Rory repeated. “Not Song?”

River smiled. “I’m a Williams, really. Even if we are all Ponds. And I can’t exactly give her her father’s name.”

“No,” Amy agreed, then said, softly, “She’ll never know her father, will she?”

“No,” said River, sadly.

*

One night, Amy woke to find River in the nursery, just staring at Jane sleeping in her crib.

“You’re leaving,” Amy said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” said River. “My future is fixed, and Jane isn’t part of it.” She turned to face her mother. “I feel selfish. I’ve had six months with her, six whole months, and you never—”

Amy crossed the room to pull her into a fierce hug. “You’re not selfish,” she said, into River’s shoulder. “God, I wanted those months with you, when I could hold you in my arms and be your entire world. But at least we had you as Mels. At least your father and I got to look after you growing up, even if we didn’t know why we were doing it, and I will never regret that.”

River hugged her back, just as tightly. “Jane’s future is fixed, too. I don’t know exactly what will happen, but there are some things no one can change. Not even the Doctor.”

“We’ll tell her about you,” said Amy. “ _You’re_ her mother, and you always will be. Will you ever be able to visit her?”

River pulled back, just a little. “Sometimes, perhaps,” she said. “It won’t be easy.”

“Then this won’t really be goodbye.”

*

“Mr. and Mrs. Williams?” said the principal, Dr. Chalmers, smiling. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Yes, of course,” said Amy, sitting in one of the chairs opposite his desk. “Is there a problem with one of the children?”

“Not… a problem, no,” said Dr. Chalmers. “But there are a few concerns that have been raised by Miss Owens.”

“Jane’s teacher?” said Rory.

“Miss Owens frequently has playground duty, and she noticed something which she brought to my attention. Jane often spends recess with your son Anthony and his friends, but she insists that he is her _uncle_ , not her brother. Normally, I wouldn’t pursue the matter— Jane has a wonderful imagination, and these sorts of games usually don’t last long. But she refuses to drop the fantasy that Anthony is her uncle, and that you are her grandparents.”

“We are her grandparents,” said Rory.

“I— Excuse me?” said Dr. Chalmers, startled.

“We are her grandparents,” Amy said, slowly and clearly. “Jane’s mother is our daughter.”

“But…” the principal began. “But _Anthony_ is…”

“Our son,” Rory finished. “Adopted, yes, but he’s ours.”

“I… see,” said Dr. Chalmers. “I see. Yes, well, I suppose you would hardly want something like that spread around. Even in progressive times like these, a child out of wedlock—”

“Jane’s parents are married,” Amy interrupted, sharply. “And happily so. They travel, frequently, and they want Jane to have a stable education.”

“Mrs. Williams,” said Dr. Chalmers, still flustered. “Surely you realize how impossible that sounds? You and Mr. Williams can’t be old enough to have a grown daughter. The timing is impossible.”

Amy snorted a laugh. “Time is a funny thing, Dr. Chalmers. Now, is there anything else you’d like to discuss with us?”

“I—” he began, the scowled. “No, Mrs. Williams, thank you for your time.”

Out in the hall, Amy hit a laugh behind her hand. “Oh, that was fun.”

Rory grinned. “It shouldn’t be. We’re probably screwing up a dozen people’s timelines here. But… it is.”

Overhead, a bell rang and children began pouring into the hall.

“Granny! Grandpa!” A small pink blur hurtled at Rory, who caught the girl and scooped her up. 

“Hello, my darling.”

“Grandpa, what are you doing here?” Jane asked. “Are you going to walk home with us?”

“Yes, we are,” said Amy. “Where’s your uncle?”

“Mom?” said Anthony. “Is anything wrong?”

Amy held out her hand to him. At nine, he was getting ‘too old’ to hold hands, but he still allowed it, sometimes. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “Your father and I were just having a chat with Principal Chalmers.”

“Are you in trouble again, Uncle Tony?” asked Jane.

“That bully had it coming,” Anthony muttered, then said, “No, Jane, I’m not in trouble. Right, Mom?”

Amy smiled. “No, you’re not in trouble.”

*  
When Jane had learned to talk, she would sometimes say things about events that hadn’t happened. At first, Amy and Rory thought it was just her but by her third birthday, they realized that she could _see_ time.

“She’s more than half Time Lord,” said River. She had come for Jane’s fourth birthday, though she couldn’t stay long. “I could, when I was her age. She knows what’s real and what’s not, though, so there’s no need to worry.”

“I wasn’t,” said Rory, watching Amy hand Jane another present to open. “All right, I was. But we missed _so much_ of your life, Melody, and now you’re missing Jane’s…”

River slid an arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s no use crying over spilled time, Father Dear,” she said, then added, softly, “You were there enough. After I regenerated that first time, when I was Mels… I was so angry, all of the time, and you always tried to make me laugh. I needed that.”

Rory smiled and planted a kiss into her mass of curls.

“Okay!” called Amy. “Who wants cake?”

Hours later, Jane had fallen asleep in her mother’s lap, full of cake and ice cream. River stroked her curls— not as outrageous as River’s own and a darker brown, like the Doctor’s.

“I really can’t stay,” River said, sadly. “Every time, it’s harder to leave, but I can’t imagine not coming.”

“We know,” said Amy, and hugged her.

*

The day after Brian Williams’s fifth birthday, a parcel arrived.

“It’s addressed to you, Bri,” said his mother, fetching a knife to open it. “That should cheer you up after yesterday.”

Brian managed a smile. It wasn’t _her_ fault that there’d been a mix-up at the bakery and the chocolate cake she’d ordered had turned out to be lemon (which he hated). Or that it had poured all day, with thunder and lightning so Brian and his friends couldn’t even go out to play football in the mud.

It was the worst birthday in the history of birthdays, and Brian wasn’t sure that anything in a box could make up for that.

His mother returned and sliced at the twine holding it shut. “What do you think it is?” she asked. “Where’s it from?”

“ _Blue Box Publishing_ ,” Brian read, carefully. “ _New York City_.”

“New York City?” his mother repeated, surprised. “In America?”

Brian pulled open the box. It was crammed full of things— a set of books with shiny embossed covers, tins of sweets with pictures of American landmarks, saltwater taffy and toffee popcorn— and a note.

He handed the note to his mother. He was a good reader, but the loopy handwriting was difficult to make out.

“ _Dear Brian_ ,” his mother read. “ _Happy birthday. You don’t know us yet, but someday, you’re going to tell us all about your fifth birthday. In fact, you’ll tell everyone— it’ll become one of your favorite stories. So, we know that everything didn’t work out quite the way you were expecting it to that day, and we thought we’d send a few goodies to make it up to you. Don’t forget to tell us someday that the toffees are your favorite, or we won’t remember to send them to you now. Love always, R and A_.”

Brian looked back at the box, then up at her again. “Who are R and A?”

“I don’t know, darling,” his mother said. “And maybe you’d better let your father look at these before you eat any.”

But Brian’s father didn’t find anything wrong with the candy, and Brian ate it slowly, savoring every bit. The toffees _were_ his favorite, but how had the person who sent them known that?

Many years later, after they had met an alien and his blue box, and just before they left one day, three time-and-space trips before they never came back, Brian reminded Rory and Amy about the toffee.

*

_Dear Mom, Dad and Jane (and River, if you’re there)_

_England is wonderful. Well, I mean, it’s gray and rainy even in the summertime, but it’s just like you’ve always described it, and I couldn’t be happier. The rest of my American summer school class must think I’m crazy, when I gleefully put on my mack and wellies and head out into the rain. (They also refer to those as a ‘raincoat’ and ‘galoshes’.)_

_School is going well. In history, we’re learning about WWII. It’s interesting to hear the English perspective, after learning only the American side in high school. Our professor was some sort of very, very minor paper-pusher during the war, and he likes to tell stories about prominent government officials passing through the office where he worked. I’m so tempted to tell him about Mom bossing Churchill around, but so far I’ve managed not to._

_Some friends and I went to see a new band this weekend. The Beatles (not like the insect, Jane, like a beat of music). I liked them very much, but a couple of the boys didn’t care for them. Any chance you can let something slip about if they ever make it big?_

_Mom will complain I’ve buried the lead with this next bit, but… I’ve met the Doctor. He didn’t know me, of course, and I didn’t mention you. There was no sign of the TARDIS, but I helped him change the tire on a monstrous yellow car he called ‘Bessie’. It’s been so long since River showed us photos, but I think it must have been his second or third face. And she’s right— he looks so young, even when he looks old. Dad looks so much older sometimes (in the eyes, I mean. Sorry, Dad) so he couldn’t have been more than a few hundred years old, could he?_

_I wanted to tell him you were okay, Mom. I wanted to thank him for all things that happened that sent you and Dad to my time, to be_ my _mom and dad. I wanted to threaten him to take care of River, and show him a picture of Jane… but I knew I couldn’t. Our family is a fixed point in time, now, and I can’t change it._

_Still, I’m glad I got to meet him. The Doctor is family, too, even if he doesn’t know it yet._

_I miss you all._

_Love from,  
Anthony_

*

“Mrs. Williams, there’s someone here to see you,” said Evelyn, her assistant, disapprovingly.

Amy didn’t pay much attention to her opinion— in the three months that Evelyn had worked for Blue Box Publishing, she had disapproved of every single person who had ever come through her office.

“Can they reschedule?” Amy asked, shuffling papers around on her desk. “I’m really rather busy and— River!”

“Hello, Mum,” her daughter greeted, as Amy darted out from behind the desk to hug her. “Are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you, River,” said Amy. “Let me look at you. It’s been so long… Or has it? Maybe it’s not been that long for you?”

“No, not that long,” River agreed. She pulled out her battered diary, which had quite a few more blank pages than the last time Amy had seen it. “It _is_ easier to keep track now that we’re not both traveling through time. How’s Dad?”

“He’s fine,” said Amy. “We’re all— we’re fine.” She winced. “Spoilers.”

“I understand,” said River. “And as much as I love seeing you, Mum, I’m actually here on business.”

“Business?” Amy repeated, taking the large envelope she held out. She opened it, and frowned. “ _Melody Malone and the—_ You wrote it.”

“I had to,” her daughter said. “Because I already had.”

Amy sank into her desk chair. “I’d really hoped that I was done with all this time travel nonsense.”

“In this family? I don’t think so.”

The redhead nodded for a moment, absently, then sat up straight. “The last page!” She scrabbled through her desk, trying to find a blank sheet of paper, but River caught her hand.

“Amy, you have years to write that afterwards, even now,” she said, softly. “Take your time. The Doctor… after all this time, he still hurts to lose the people he cares about.”

“Then what should I tell him? What should I say?”

“Say that you’re happy,” said River, simply. “Say that you have Rory and that you’ve built a life together. Don’t say that I’ve been able to see you, and don’t tell him about Jane.”

“About…” Amy repeated. “Oh, River, can’t he ever know about her? She’s his _daughter_!”

“Yes, she is,” agreed River. “But our family is a fixed point in time, and we can’t change it. And at least… at least she has you and Dad, instead of…”

Any hugged her again, hard. “Are _you_ happy, River? Sometimes, when you can be, at least?”

River held her tight. “Sometimes, yes.”

*

As usual, Amy was late. She wasn’t sure how she managed it so often, because she had a personal assistant to keep a calendar for her and remind her of things. ( _Secretary_ , Evelyn always corrected her, confused, but Amy assured her that it would catch on.)

She had a meeting, something important, she’d remember what in a moment, and she might have been walking just a bit too fast when she crashed headlong into another person.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Amy and the other person said, at the same time.

Amy paused— the other person was a woman, who had spoken with an English accent. She was on her feet already, holding out a hand to help Amy up. She looked like any of the dozens of other women Amy had passed on the street that day, or the days earlier, but there was something about her that made Amy take the hand slowly, prolonging their contact.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked.

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Amy. “Nothing wounded but my pride. Thank you.”

The other woman made no move to let go of her hand. “You’re…” she said. “You’re…”

“Amelia Williams,” Amy agreed. “Semi-famous novelist and publisher.”

“No,” said the woman, letting go quickly and taking a step back. “I mean, yes, of course you are— _the_ Amelia Williams, I really am a huge fan, but— you’re her, you’re Amy Pond.”

It had been a very long time since anyone had called her that. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“A friend,” said the woman. “I just didn’t expect… although maybe I should have. You _are_ an important part of his timeline.”

“Wait,” said Amy, reaching out to catch the woman’s elbow. “Who _are_ you?”

“A friend,” she repeated.

“He’s in trouble, isn’t he?” Amy said, softly. “The Doctor.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But he has help.”

“Good,” said Amy. “Good. You had better…”

“I will. And, Mrs. Williams? Do you think maybe, in your next book, you could have a character named Clara?”

“I will,” Amy promised.

*

“I don’t feel old enough to be the grandfather of the bride,” said Rory, as they waited for their granddaughter to come down the aisle.

“That’s because you’re not,” said Amy, matter-of-factly. “Depending on when she visits from, River is usually older than we are.”

“I’m not today,” River agreed, from beside them. “But I couldn’t miss my daughter’s wedding.”

Jane was a beautiful bride. Her gown was simple, with embroidered daisies at the hem and fresh-picked daisies in her hair.

“Wow,” said Rory, as he offered her his arm. “Jane…”

“He means that you look amazing, sweetheart,” said Amy.

Jane grinned. “Thanks, Gran.”

“You’re welcome. Now, go on and get married.”

The bride nodded. “Mum…”

River tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I haven’t seen your future, love, but I know it will be wonderful.”

Jane bit her lip. “I wish Dad could have been here.”

“Our family is a fixed point in time,” Amy said, softly. “But I know he’d be happy for you, if he were here. He’d be so proud of you, Jane.”

“He’d do his ridiculous giraffe dance at the reception,” put in Rory, and they laughed.

“Thanks, Granddad,” said Jane. “Are you ready?”

“No,” said Rory. “But let’s go anyway.”

The ceremony was short but beautiful. Jane beamed through the entire thing, hardly looking away from her groom, but never so brightly as when they were first announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Foreman.”

“An accountant, I tell you,” said Amy, at the reception, nestling against Rory’s side with a glass of champagne.

“He makes her happy,” said Rory. “Besides, we let our daughter marry your childhood imaginary friend, who turned out to be a time-traveling space alien. So, really, I think Jane picked the more sensible route.”

“Quiet, you,” Amy laughed. “But they do look happy, don’t they?”

They were silent for a long moment, watching their granddaughter and new grandson-in-law sway across the dance floor. Then, Rory asked, “Would you marry me again?”

Amy snorted. “I rewrote time for you, stupid-face. I would marry you a thousand times, if I could.” She rose and held out a hand. “Dance with me, Mr. Pond?”

He took it, grinning. “Always.”

*

River remembered vividly the day she had given birth to Jane. She even remembered, slightly less vividly, her own birth (though she tried hard to forget some of the years that had followed) and her first precious glimpses of her parents.

None of those memories were helping her nerves as she appeared outside the hospital where her father worked, and slipped inside. It was late and most of the lights were dimmed, but River easily found her way to the maternity ward, where there were two people sitting anxiously in the hallway.

“River,” said Amy and pulled her in for a hug. “Rory’s in with her.”

“Can I…?” River asked.

“Oh, yes,” said Alex, accepting a hug from his mother-in-law. “The nurses suggested I should get some air, and they asked Mrs. Williams to leave when she started swearing.”

“Ah,” said River. “I’ll just—”

“Amy, Alex!” called Rory, suddenly, and they all hurried into the delivery room in time to hear a baby’s sharp cry.

“Mum,” said Jane, slumped back against her pillows. “You came.”

“Of course, darling,” said River, smoothing a sweat-damp curl behind her daughter’s ear.

“It’s a girl,” said Rory, placing a blanket-wrapped bundle in Jane’s arms. “Have you decided on a name?”

“Susan,” said the new mother, proudly. “Susan Amelia Foreman.”

“She’s beautiful,” said Alex, leaning in to kiss his wife, then his daughter. “I am the luckiest man in the world.”

“Remember that during the two AM feedings,” said Rory. “It’ll help.”

Smiling, Jane handed the baby to her husband, who took her, looking awed. “Hi, there…”

“Oh, my god,” said Amy, suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her, and she said, “I’m a _great-grandmother_.”

“What’s so funny?” Anthony arrived as everyone laughed, looking rumpled, still wearing his pajama top with his pants and jacket. “Did I miss it?”

“Her name is Susan,” said Jane. “And you’re her godfather.”

“I am? Of course I am. Anything for you, Janie.”

Susan was getting sleepy by the time everyone had had a chance to hold her, and she ended up with River, who was sitting in a chair beside the bed.

“Mum?” said Jane, softly. “Is there…? Do you know…?”

River shook her head. “Spoilers.”

“But she’s your _granddaughter_ ,” said Jane. “Gran always says that time can be rewritten.”

“Not always,” said River. “And often with a great cost. Don’t you think I wanted to be there when you were growing up, Jane? But I couldn’t and I knew—”

She broke off abruptly, and leaned down to kiss the top of Susan’s head.

“Mum?”

“Please try not to think about it, darling,” said River. “Don’t let worry about the future take away from your present.”

Jane smiled. “I love you, Mum.”

“I love you, too, Jane.” River handed Susan back to her mother, kissed Jane on the forehead, and left the hospital.

*

[BEGIN RECORDING PLAYBACK]

“ _River, are you sure this thing is recording?_ ”

“ _Of course I’m sure, Sweetie. Look, the little light is on._ ”

“ _So it is. All right… What am I supposed to say?_ ”

“ _Well, Doctor, if you had a daughter—_ ”

“ _River, you of all people should know whether I have a daughter or not._ ”

“ _I know exactly how many children you have, husband. Can’t you just suppose for a moment?_ ”

“ _For you, River, anything. Go on, then. Suppose I have a daughter…_ ”

“ _Suppose you have a daughter. And she’s grown, with her own daughter. And your granddaughter is turning three. What do you say to her?_ ”

“ _That’s an awful lot of supposing, River. But all right… Hello, granddaughter! Happy birthday, felicitations, many happy returns. I hope you’ve enjoyed your special day— cake, ice cream, all that. Your grandmother— River, you are her grandmother in this ‘supposing’, aren’t you?_ ”

“ _If you’d like, Sweetie._ ”

“ _Well, of course I’d— Honestly, River— Anyway, granddaughter… I’m sorry I can’t be there to celebrate your birthday with you. I’m very sure that I’d like to, but it seems that we’re far away. So, I’ll send you all my love, every last bit of it, and wish you all the best for the coming year. Three is a wonderful age, I remember it well, but you’re going to love four, trust me._

_How was that, River?_ ”

“ _That was perfect._ ”

*

“What about here?” Jane asked, holding the daisy sticker up to the side of her Volkswagen Beetle. 

Three-year-old Susan regarded the sticker thoughtfully. “Left,” she decided, finally.

Her mother moved it over a few inches. “Better?”

Susan nodded, blonde curls bouncing. “Better.”

“There,” said Jane, fixing the daisy to the cherry-red paint with a flourish. “Ready to go?”

“Yes!” 

Jane patted the hood of her car as she moved to help Susan buckle into the back seat. She loved her little bug— drove it everywhere, anytime she got the chance— and her daughter seemed to love it, too.

“Where to, my lady?” Jane asked, playfully. “Anywhere you like, as long as we’re back in time to make dinner before Daddy gets home.”

“Away!” giggled Susan, as she did every time, and Jane turned the car down the street away from their house, away from the city, and out into the suburbs, until there were almost as many trees as houses.

Jane watched the rearview mirror, catching glimpses of Susan’s wide-eyed wonder at every new turn. She let her daughter’s giggling wash over her, mixing with the rumble of the car’s engine, and the roar of wind from the cracked-open windows.

Then, suddenly, there was the horrible sound of shrieking metal.

The sensation of the crash only registered a moment later, as Jane slammed into the air bag, her seatbelt biting into her shoulder. She felt the Beetle tumbling end over end, glass and metal crunching as it went— and then a sudden, stunning, silence.

“Su—” Jane croaked. “Susan!”

Every bit of her hurt, but Jane twisted in her seat. The car and come to a stop on the driver’s side, and Susan had been sitting directly behind her.

“ _Susan!_ ” 

The girl was still in her seat, the seatbelt holding her in place, but she had slumped sideways, completely unconscious. There was a trickle of blood sliding down from under her blonde curls, and Jane struggled out of her seat, trying to get to her daughter. Something in her chest _ached_ at the motion, but she kept going. 

Susan didn’t stir when Jane touched her. She was breathing, but each breath sounded labored, with a wheezing rattle that made her mother’s heart ache. She was dying, Jane realized, gasping. She had been too badly injured in the crash, and Susan was dying.

Carefully, Jane eased Susan from her seatbelt, cradling her daughter in her arms, but she didn’t have the energy to move any further. The broken glass had caused nicks and cuts all over her arms and bare legs, and each one hurt— no, each one _glowed_.

Jane was beginning to regenerate.

But why wasn’t Susan?

Her daughter was so much more hurt than she was, why was the glowing energy only spreading through Jane’s body?

Jane was more than half Time Lord, all from her father’s side and a little bit extra from her mother, but Susan had only a quarter of alien genetics, and she wouldn’t— She would _die_.

The glowing brightened, and Jane took a deep breath, even as Susan’s breathing grew shallower. She leaned forward to kiss her daughter’s forehead and _pushed_ , sending all of her regeneration energy into Susan’s body.

There was a blinding flash that enveloped them both. Susan gasped, suddenly someone new— she looked perhaps a year or two older than she had, golden curls replaced with a bob of straight dark hair— and her new, still-familiar face was the last thing Jane saw as the darkness took her.

*

“Tell me you didn’t know about this!” growled Amy, when River arrived at the funeral home. “Your own daughter, River!”

“There are fixed points in time!” River said, tears in her eyes. “I can’t change them, nobody can change them! Don’t you think I would? Don’t you think I would change all of this, if I could? Don’t you think—”

Amy pulled her in for a fierce hug, stroking River’s curls as she cried on her mother’s shoulder. “I know, Melody,” she said, softly. “I know.”

“What’s the point of it, Mum?” River sobbed. “All of time and space, and I can’t even save my daughter…”

“Life doesn’t have a point,” said Amy. “It’s just life, and it’s never going to be fair, so we’ve just got to make the best of it.”

“And focus on the things that we _can_ do, not the ones we can’t,” added Rory, resting a hand on River’s shoulder, without letting go of his grip on Anthony’s, as well. “We can’t… we can’t do anything for Janie, but Susan will need us, more than ever.”

“There are fixed points for her, too,” said River. “Not only the big things are fixed, it’s just that the Doctor tends to interfere in the biggest way possible. But the small ones are just as unchangeable. And Jane—”

She broke off, abruptly, as the door to the parlor opened. It was Anthony, holding Susan in his arms. “River?” he said. “I thought I heard your voice. Suzie, Grandma is here.”

“Gramma?” asked Susan, and held out her arms for River to take her.

She smoothed her granddaughter’s hair, now dark and sleek instead of the golden curls River remembered— she’d regenerated, Jane had given Susan her own regeneration energy and she’d changed, all alone in a ruined car— 

River clutched the girl a little tighter, and Susan wriggled in protest. “Gramma…”

The door opened again, admitting Jane’s husband, Alex. “The… they’re ready for us to see her,” he said, softly. 

“You and Susan should go first,” said Amy. “We’ll wait here, give you a few minutes.”

Alex nodded. “Okay.” 

When River passed his daughter to him, he held her tightly for a long moment, then leaned in to kiss his mother-in-law’s cheek and carried Susan out of the room. 

Anthony moved to hug River, gently. “Did you ever do that, Sister?” he asked, using the childhood nickname he’d never quite outgrown. “Change into a whole new person?”

“Yes,” she said. “It hurts, quite a lot. Anthony, I’ll need you to look after Susan for me, until…”

“Until what?” her brother demanded, pulling back to look at her.

River shook her head, sadly. “Fixed points, brother dear. There are things in the universe so much larger than the Williams family. And for that, Susan will need her grandfather.”

*

“A phone box again?” the Doctor asked, frowning at the outside of his time-space vessel through his monocle, hands on the lapels of his coat. “Granted, a bit more applicable in this era of London, but you’ve refused to take on any other shape for the last three weeks. Perhaps—”

“Doctor?”

He whirled, to see a middle-aged man standing in the otherwise-deserted street, a dark-haired young girl on his hip.

“Yes?” the Doctor demanded. “What do you want?”

The man smiled. “You look so young. My sister said you would, but… It’s amazing.”

“Young? I wager I’m older than you, my boy.”

“Yes, that’s true,” the man laughed. “Old enough to be this one’s grandfather.”

The girl on his hip peered shyly through her dark hair at him. “Grandfather?” she repeated.

“Yes, sweetie,” said the man. “Your grandfather. Doctor, may we step inside to talk? We can stay in this time, if you like.”

“How do you know about my time machine? Who are you? Explain yourself!”

“My name is Anthony,” he said. “I will be the son of your very dear friends— rather, I _am_ their son, and they _will be_ your friends. Goodness, this time travel is harder than she made it sound. And I have been sent by your wife to bring you your granddaughter, Susan.”

“My granddaughter? My wife!?”

“Spoilers, Doctor,” said Anthony. “Shall we go in?”

Scowling, the Doctor opened the door and led the way inside. He softened slightly when both Anthony and Susan looked around in awe, then his eyes widened as a display on the console began beeping softly.

“What?” he said, peering at it. “She _is_ my granddaughter. How is that possible?”

Anthony held up his toddler-free-wrist, which held a wide leather band. “Vortex manipulator. I had to promise not to use it more than once, but it does the job. And don’t bother doing that with _my_ DNA, Doctor. I’m adopted.”

“I was doing nothing of the sort,” the Doctor lied.

“I plan to stay for a few days,” said Anthony. “To help you and Susan get acquainted. But you of all people should understand fixed points in time, and how very unavoidable they are.”

“Yes,” the Time Lord said, slowly. “I do indeed know. Well, then, child… Susan, is it?”

She smiled and reached out for him. The Doctor hesitated, then took her out of Anthony’s arms, smiling as she automatically wrapped her small arms around his neck. 

Anthony smiled. “Her name is Susan Foreman, and she loves learning…”

*

The hospital was dark, no sound except for the steady beeping of equipment and the occasional squeak of a nurse’s shoes. Brian drifted between sleep and wakefulness, until he became aware of someone else in the room with him.

“Hello?” he rasped.

“Hello,” replied a woman’s voice, hesitantly. She moved to stand beside the bed where he could see her, the moonlight bright on her halo of curls. “I… goodness, I thought this would be easier. Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”

“No,” said Brian. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“Oh,” said the woman. “I’m… Well, this is a bit complicated. Do you remember when your son Rory was a little boy, he had a friend named Mels Zucker?”

“I remember,” he said. “Left after secondary school. Are you a friend or relative of hers? Are you looking for Rory? Because he— he isn’t here, now.”

“I know.” The woman lifted a hand like she was going to touch him, but stopped herself. “I know exactly what happened to him, and I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not a friend of Mels, I _am_ her. Or I was. My name now is River Song, but when I was born… when I was born, my parents named me Melody Williams.”

“Your parents?”

“My parents. Rory and Amy. I’m your granddaughter.”

Brian drew in a sharp breath. “But how? Rory and Amy didn’t—”

“Time travel, Granddad,” said the woman— River. “It’s a very long story, and I promise I’ll tell you everything. I just… I just wanted to see you, before…”

“Before I die,” he finished. “It’s all but inevitable now. I am an old, old man, River. I don’t want to dwell on the things I’ve lost, I just want to enjoy what I have left.”

“You’re a very wise man, Brian Williams,” she said, and reached for his hand. His grip was strong despite his age, and River smiled. She slid up to sit on the bed beside his knee, settling in. “Would you like me to tell you a story, Granddad?”

“I would like nothing better,” said Brian, and her smile brightened.

“Well, then. Time is not always fluid. There are fixed points, things no power in the universe can stop. Like Amy and Rory being sent back in time. Like my not being able to live with my family. Like you not being able to know who I am, until now.”

“It’s never too late, Granddaughter,” he replied. “Now, about that story…”

She pulled out a battered blue book and plucked a photo from its pages. “You’ll recognize me, of course,” she said, handing it to him. “And Anthony. Next to him, there, that’s Jane, your great-granddaughter. Amy and Rory raised her, in New York. She married an accountant, nice fellow, and they had a girl, Susan.”

Brian took the picture with careful hands. “They’re beautiful. Tell me about them?”

And River did.

THE END


End file.
